Acrophobia
by Sir Handel
Summary: After his near incident on the Mountain Road, Falcon has a newfound fear of heights. But when Duke is stranded there and needs Falcon to come to his rescue, will Falcon be able to rise to the call and help out his friend?


_14th of April, 1986_

 _After paying the engines of the Skarloey Railway a visit, I was able to catch up with Sir Handel and Peter Sam. I learned more about their past on the Mid Sodor Railway, where they worked alongside Duke. They told me all the mishaps and the railway's demise. It would make a very interesting book series, if I do say so myself._

 _My favorite story in particular was told by Peter Sam and Duke about Sir Handel, known as Falcon back then. He had nearly fallen off a cliff! If Duke hadn't been there to hold him from falling off the edge, he would have most certainly rolled down the hill!_

 _Much to Sir Handel's dismay, Peter Sam then told me how Sir Handel used to be absolutely terrified of heights after the incident. He refused to go across bridges and on the Mountain Road, where his near accident took place._

 _Of course, with Sir Handel's reluctance, I was given permission to write about his overcoming of acrophobia, or his fear of heights. I hope you all enjoy this little story, and to Sir Handel, I wholeheartedly apologize._

 _Cheers, and happy reading,_

 _The Author._

* * *

 ** _Dedicated to Skarloey Railway's No. 3, Sir Handel._**

* * *

It had been a few weeks after the incident on the Mountain Road, and Falcon refused to leave the yard. He shunted trucks that had been brought down from the mine, and put the coaches in order at the platform, but that was about it. He refused to head up to the mines, and he wanted absolutely nothing to do with the Mountain Road whatsoever.

The manager was fed up with Falcon at this point. Trains were running later and slower, and Stuart and Duke had to work twice as hard to cover Falcon's work load as well as their own. No matter how many times he had tried to talk to Falcon, he wouldn't budge from the few tracks in the yard.

"You stubborn engine! You are to take a train up the Mountain Road tomorrow, and that is final! I am not having my railway close because of an irrational fear!" the manager finally said to Falcon one day.

"But, sir! Stuart would love to do it! Or how about Duke? He loves the Mountain Road. He told me so! I am most certainly an awful candidate for taking the train, considering my near accident a mere few weeks ago," Falcon faltered.

"Orders are orders, Falcon!" the manager rapped. No matter how much Falcon resisted and pleaded, the manager's word was harsh and clear. He was to take a train across the Mountain Road, and he couldn't do a thing about it.

The next morning, when his crew was firing him up, Falcon remained strangely silent. He didn't try to strike up a conversation with the other engines, and he most certainly didn't protest about his impending train. He puffed away, fetching his coaches without a word. The other engines exchanged glances of confusion, but opted to not say anything.

Falcon collected his passengers at the station at the bottom of the mountain a little bit behind schedule. He stared up at the track nervously, but once again, he didn't say anything. With the sound of his whistle and the throttle pulled, he began his climb upwards to the top station.

It didn't take too long until he reached the short and curvy tunnel near the highest point of the line. He hated it, but still, he didn't speak. He squinted, trying to see ahead of him in the dark tunnel.

As soon he cleared the tunnel, Falcon looked down over the edge. He felt his boiler pressure drop has he stared wildly down at the village below him. He slowed, and slowed, until he stopped mere inches where he had nearly fallen off weeks before.

"Oh, come on, Falcon! We're already running late, we need to get to the station!" called his driver from his cab.

"I can't do it!" Falcon cried at last. He shut his eyes real tight, and refused to start again. His driver and fireman did everything they could, but it was no use. Falcon didn't build up enough steam to get started back up again. They both berated and scolded him numerous times, but Falcon didn't dare move from his spot on the hillside.

Finally, Stuart was called to assist Falcon's coaches. He had to abandon his mixed good train to push Falcon and his entire train of now angry passengers up to the station.

When they arrived, the passengers sprang out of their coaches, and told Falcon and his crew what a bad railway it was, and how they were late for their picnics. After both Falcon and Stuart had to listen to the ugly complaints of the passengers, Stuart had to take Falcon back down the Mountain Road. When they reached the yards, the manager was waiting for them. He was most upset.

"You foolish engine!" he burst out as Stuart backed Falcon down into the shed. "You might have cost us our passengers with your silly stunt on the Mountain Road. Please do explain how stopping and refusing to start on the steepest, most rocky part of our line was the most impeccable idea!"

"Sir, please! I couldn't go any further! It was too... too...!" stuttered Falcon. The manager interrupted him.

"'Too' what? Out with it!" he ordered.

"Too scary! For... the lack of a better term," said Falcon sheepishly.

The manager pursed his lips, and tapped his foot in thought as he stared at Falcon.

"Falcon, don't think that I don't understand your worries," the manager said finally. He was strangely calm. "An incident like that would strike fear into anyone. But you have to understand that we are desperately in need of more motive power. Without engines to pull trains, we don't make any money, and no money means no railway. You could be sold off to other railways if our line closes. We don't want that, now do we?"

Falcon and Stuart didn't like the sound of that. The last thing they wanted was to be sold off! The blue saddle tank engine sighed.

"I understand, sir," replied Falcon. "But you must understand me. I wasn't like this until the... incident."

"I do understand," the manager said, and with that, he walked stiffly off. Falcon looked over to Stuart, and they exchanged a worried glance.

"I don't want to be sold," said Stuart quietly.

"Sold?!" cried a voice. Duke had steamed back into the yard from his evening train. "Nonsense! We will never be sold!"

"Granpuff, manager told us that we will be sold if Falcon can't pull trains along the Mountain Road!" exclaimed Stuart as Duke backed down into his place in the shed.

"Falcon, stop being so daft. There is nothing to be scared of on the Mountain Road," Duke huffed.

"That's easy for you to say!" replied Falcon sharply. "You're not the one who was practically inches away from certain doom!"

"Nonsense! If my wheels hadn't had a good grip, you would have dragged me and the entire train down with you!" retorted Duke.

"But you didn't!" spat back Falcon.

"I don't have time for this senseless bickering, youngster," Duke yawned. "An old engine needs his sleep, and I think it'd be wise if you got some shut-eye, too."

Falcon opened his mouth to protest, but decided that it was pointless to argue with such a stubborn engine.

Although the manager kept trying to edge Falcon out of the yard, he refused. With Falcon's constant protests, an arrangement was made by the manager himself. Stuart and Duke kept trains running on the Mountain Road, balancing their jobs at the mines. Falcon worked the level portion of the line up to the interchange with the North Western Railway at Arlesburgh Junction. The arrangement worked well for a time and trains were running with no trouble at all. One day, though, after taking on a bad load of coal in the morning, Duke found himself struggling to pull a loaded slate train from the mines to the interchange.

"Got to… keep… moving," he wheezed. "This train has to get to Arlesburgh before sundown!"

"Your tubes are getting blocked with soot and clinkers!" the fireman replied. "If you keep this up, you'll stall for sure!"

A few miles further down the line, the fireman's earlier warning proved correct. With no suitable draft running through his blocked boiler tubes, a coughing, stuffed-up Duke came to a standstill outside the tunnel on the Mountain Road.

"Botheration!" Duke coughed. "And right on the highest part of the line, too!" Luckily, Duke's driver remembered the cottage nearby during Falcon's near plunge over the edge and asked the tenant if he could use the phone. Within minutes, the news reached the manager's office and he worked to make the necessary arrangements.

Stuart had gone off to the farthest part of the line with another train, rendering him unavailable. Falcon was the only engine that could help Duke to the top station on such a short notice.

"I can't! I won't do it!" Falcon stated. "Of course Stuart is away, off with his own work! Why wouldn't he be?!"

"Quit complaining! You remember what manager said! No trains means no money, and no money means no railway! You'll be sold!" said his driver. Falcon paled at this. He clearly remember manager scolding him a few weeks prior. It took no more convincing from his crew, and reluctantly, Falcon set off to help Duke.

As he felt the strain of the grades on his wheels, Falcon chanted to himself.

"Can't be sold. Can't be sold. Can't be sold," he repeated as he climbed higher and higher. He shut his eyes, not daring to look down.

Meanwhile, Duke had his fire dropped and he and his crew were waiting for help to arrive. It was getting later, and Duke was worried that the manager would be angry at him for being late.

He soon heard a distant whistle, though, and was surprised to see a familiar blue saddle tank chuff into view.

"Falcon! There you are!" he said, relieved. "Thank goodness! Come on! My driver will get you coupled up and we'll be on our way!"

Falcon hadn't heard a word of this. He was too busy concentrating on not looking down. He didn't want to be reminded of where he was.

He came up to Duke slowly, and buffered up to him. As he was coupled, Falcon cracked an eye open. He saw a smiling Duke in front of him, and then the jagged rocks and green vegetation that surrounded the line. His eye drifted over to the mended fence, and then, to village below.

Falcon bit down on his lip. His coupling rods were visibly shaking.

"I don't think I can do this," he whispered to Duke as their drivers climbed back into their respective cabs.

"Of course you can, Falcon. There is nothing to be afraid of. I believe in you," Duke said softly back. Just then, Falcon's regulator was opened, and he began the descend down the mountain. He panicked, but Duke urged him on. Falcon moved slowly, but with encouragements from both his driver and Duke, Falcon made it all the way down the mountain and back to the yard.

It was nearly dark when they arrived. A crowd of workers and the manager was waiting for them. Stuart was mumbling something to himself in the shed, but he began to shout and whistle with delight as he heard the distant chugging of Falcon. The workmen also began to cheer, and they threw their hats into the air. The manager was relieved.

They came to a complete stop in the depot, and the workers crowded around them, praising the shaking Falcon for the job well done. The manager strode up to the two engines with a broad smile on his face.

"Well done, Falcon! You conquered your fears, and helped Duke when he needed it most. I'm very proud of you," he said. Falcon, too tired to say anything, gave him a small smile. He simply backed Duke down into the shed, and returned into his own berth. As soon as he came to a full stop, Falcon went straight to sleep. Duke couldn't help but chuckle.

"A hard-headed one, he is. But he's a brave little engine, indeed," he said with a smile.


End file.
